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I think art is taken far too seriously in this world, don’t you? I mean, human nature seems to be, that as we look at a piece of art, we judge it. It’s either good or bad. We like it or we don’t. And Heaven forbid if we did the artwork. Criticism takes on a new low! So, let’s change this seriousness, shall we? Let’s look at the joy of art. Joy of creation. Joy of expression. Joy of connection. And let’s begin now.  (Especially since I’m about ready to reveal some of my artwork!)

My continuing Swiss series of our trip three years ago….

Elevation wise, the Alps aren’t any higher than our own Mt. Shasta.  Yet, there are so many of them, hundreds of miles of them, rising so dramatically they block the sky.  For me, this was like a newly discovered natural phenomenon.  When I sat down to paint the scenes, I loved how the mountains filled my paper up to the very top, with only a tease of sky winking through.  My Trinity Alps watercolor paintings happened to be in the same pad, and as I flipped through, comparing my Trinity Alps renditions to my Swiss Alps, it delighted me to see how differently they were painted.

It delighted me even more to discover that my pictures showed what I had felt about each set of Alps.  California’s Trinity Alps stood rugged, solid and hard, with a somewhat macho attitude.  You do not penetrate the Trinity Alps; the Trinity Alps penetrate you.  The Swiss Alps, on the other hand, seem to work slowly, over time, gentle waves flowing tenderly, like a loving woman’s touch, caressing that which needs caressing, lingering.  Then ebbing.  Then flowing again, a little further this time.  Then ebbing.  Then flowing.  Patient. 

You can see, or at least, I can see, how these feelings aren’t exactly my typical first impressions.  Or second, third, fourth or fifth.  More like sixth sense impressions.  Because, as I gazed at my pictures, I realized that these feelings were true.  Unrevealed feelings revealed.  Gayle revealed.  Grace.

 

Swiss Alps 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         Trinity Alps

Now, wasn’t that fun? You can see for yourself how much fun it is to paint. You don’t even have to be good at it unless you reside in a world where art is taken far too seriously.

Mike and I are in Switzerland again this very moment, creating new pictures in our minds and hearts. Wish you were here!

Where do you go, or what do you do to create art from your heart? Maybe we should create a new term: HeartArt. I like the sound of it, don’t you! If you agree, paint me a picture, and I’ll see the joy, I promise!

 

Due to some operating systems (so I’m told) some of the photos and/or captions may show up on your computer slightly askew.  But I can’t let that stop me from posting–can I! Besides, isn’t that just like life! Just when you think you have it figured out….

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The older I get, the fewer memories I have! Not that I’ve been throwing them out like old, worn-out shoes. Rather, I seem to lose them as easily as Cinderella slips out of her glass slipper during the midnight hour. There are some memories, however, that I do hold on to. Some of the special ones, the magical ones, the ones filled with Grace. Of course, it helps that I’ve written them down!

Since I will be in Switzerland gathering new memories–and forgetting old :-), during the month of September, I would like to share with you a series of Swiss memories from a 2009 trip. Forgive me for those who have already read parts of this adventure. They are all memories of The Sweet Life, however, and since part of the trip took place in Locarno, the Italian part of Switzerland, they are memories of La Dolce Vita!

Enjoy:

Switzerland…

I warn you.  Switzerland is for lovers. 

If you want to be one, go. 

Go high up into the Swiss Alps.  Any alp will do. 

Just go high enough that it takes your breath away. 

High enough that passion explodes your heart. 

High enough that there is hardly any sky left at all.  But don’t stop there. 

Climb until you can’t climb anymore.  And even then, take one step more. 

Because then, and only then, will you be a pure lover. 

A lover of life. 

A lover of Grace.

As you read this, you might think that climbing a Swiss Alp takes your breath away because it is so steep.  You would be right.  Some parts are so steep you can reach out in front of you, and with a slight forward bend, touch the trail.  Other parts are only “I can’t believe I’m doing this” steep.  Of course, going down those trails is steep, too.  Almost vertical.

Because my face was usually so close to the slope, I spotted everything.  Every pink alpen rose, every iridescent midnight blue dragonfly, every garnet or crystal studded stone within peripheral vision of the trail.  Even a chocolate scented plant.  What a lark.  And so, because I was taking one baby step at a time, I stopped.  That’s when I looked around.  That’s when my passions exploded. 

Passion for my own senses. 

Passion for my beloved trail mates. 

Passion for the miracle of having a physical body. 

Passion for those unrestrained mountains, untamed even after centuries of human and animal habitation. 

Passion exploding for life itself and the freely given Grace of it all.

 

What passions do you have? What makes your heart explode with life itself and the freely given Grace of it all?

Please feel free to share, even though I may not be able to respond to your comments until I return home.

I also invite you to share on facebook by clicking the appropriate icon. If you are a subscriber, you may have to click on the title of the post to display the icons. Thank you for joining me in Switzerland. Maybe we’ll be there face-to-face, or hand-in-hand one day!

If you like hot spots, please come visit my hometown of Redding, California–in the summertime!

When the temperature reads upwards to Cracklin’ Hot, (110 degrees or so) Redding-ites get creative. (In this kind of heat, however, even a bird brain knows how to “chill out.”)

                                                                         

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At the Beach

 

Of course, it’s always more fun to share the joy with loved ones!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At the Beach with Children!

 

Lest you think we are uncivilized, I want you to know that we teach our youngsters good old-fashioned values!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everyone is Welcome at our Beach!

 

Of course, there are those who prefer private beaches. These are the red-heads, the hot fiery types!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oooh, La La!

 

Then again, not everyone likes the beach. In those cases, Redding-ites seize opportunities to cool themselves the good old-fashioned way!

 

 

 

 

 

Sipping Cool Water from a Leaf

Cool Water-Cool Lizard!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sippin’ Cider 

Cool Cider–Cool Pamela!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sharing ice-cold watermelon–Cool!

 

When times are really hard, and Redding-ites can’t get to the beach or the watering hole, guess what we do….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We bring the watering hole home!

 

And if times get desperate, so desperate that the hot air straightens perms, there are those who go where waves are the norm…

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vacationing in Mendocino

 

And as always, when you’re at the beach, it’s more fun with friends…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At the Beach with Beach Peep!

 

But life in Redding isn’t always hot.  Sometimes it’s hotter!  Like now.

Fires rage around our town, destroying forests, homes and dreams.These infernos remind us just how uncertain life is. One day it is ordinary and the next day it may be burning out of control. Has that ever happened to you? It has happened to me, too. We’re the same, then.

I don’t know about you, but I have discovered that overcoming adversity is easier when I have loved enough. Enough so that if this is my last day on Earth, I will be full.

To that end, every day I look for love. I am never disappointed. I savor living The Sweet Life : La Dolce Vita; even when it’s too hot, too smoky, or when I’m undergoing treatment for pancreatic cancer. Right now. This moment, life is for living.  So I think I’ll live it.

Would you like to join me? We’ll go look at how ethereal the sun looks when it is cloaked in forest-fire gray. And we’ll remember to love our loved ones, water the birds, look for lizards, and find a way to offer help to fire victims. We’ll walk together and talk together. We’ll drink tea, laugh and maybe cry together. And when we’re finished, we’ll rest so we can start all over again!

For that is what humans do.  As surely as trees and grasses grow back after fire, we grow strength from each other.

Let’s start right now….

Look, there’s the sun!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you for dropping in to share The Sweet Life with me. A special thanks to Matthew Henderson for generously sharing his photo of the Ponderosa Fire burning near Redding. You can see more of his photos at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Matthew-Henderson/42178807987

If you like the post and care to share (thank you!), simply click on the appropriate icons below. I invite you to subscribe by scrolling back to the top and typing in your email address in the box on the right. Then together we can laugh and sometimes cry together!  How sweet!

I tried hard not to die last year. I did not want to leave my family. This week my mother tried. She tried with all her heart and soul not to die. She did not want to leave her family, but she did. At 99-years old, she smiled her last smile, cried her last tear, breathed her last breath, received her last kiss.

There seems to be a greater calling which cannot be denied. We’re ultimately drawn to it as surely as a moth flies to a glowing porch light on a late summer night. I was blessed to have been with my mother during this intimate time–one of the most sacred times of life.

As I sat keeping vigil at her bedside, I was struck by the miracle of the human spirit. It enters our bodies and walks this earth, loves others and does good works. Deep inside it teases us with a yearning to know it. Then one day this miraculous animating force leaves our bodies to continue its journey. Thank you, Mother, for showing me that even death is a miracle!

How ironic. At the end of my mother’s life, she was still giving gifts–gifts that started with my birth. As Kathy, the beautiful hospice nurse said, “A person dies like they live.” In my mother’s case, she was still giving.

Isn’t that just like a mother!

 Everlasting love

       

Rocky was a hot dog. After all, the temperature was set at “bake” that day and trees were as scarce as crab in a $5.99 Crab Louie. He probably would have stayed home under the awning, panting in search of a breeze, but my new friend Lisa and I wanted to go in search of the perfect sage bush. (I’m not sure God makes imperfect ones, but Lisa knew what we were looking for.) She harvests the fresh silver-green leafed branches to make gifts of smudge sticks. I’ve personally never used a smudge stick, but that didn’t stop me.  I wanted to make one!

We em-“barked” on our scorching search for what felt like an initiation walk over hot sandy coals.  We passed.

Almost out, but that’s a topic for another story.

We persevered, scanning the horizon, scouting the terrain, sweating profusely and me secretly wondering what in the blue blazes I was doing out there without a hat, water hydration pack, walking stick, close-toed shoes, GPS, cell phone and ice cream.

 

Oh well, I was out on adventure, which always makes my tail wag and my nose wet.

 We trudged on until we found the perfect bush.

At least I think it was just right. It was kind of hard to tell with sweat stinging my eyesight into a salty blur. Just then, however, when my outer seeing disappeared, Rocky gave me his sage advice:

“If the sun is too hot, find shade.”

Why didn’t I think of that!

So, off we traipsed, looking along the way for a piece of wood that “spoke to us.” Now I don’t know about you, but I am open to all possibilities, so if a stick is about to speak to me, I am all ears. I picked up one that begged, then screamed at me, as my hearing wasn’t all that clear! It would not be ignored.

Coveting my admired prize, we trekked homeward.

Normally, Lisa would have used a fine twine to wrap the pungent stems around the chatty stick. But when you don’t have fine twine, use dental floss. (I think Rocky approved.)

Lisa wove her magic, Rocky silently (except for the panting), watched, and Mike’s cousin Margie exploded with glee when I told her about receiving sage advice from her dawg.

 

Besides, it’s fun to laugh at life. It’s even more fun to laugh at yourself. But don’t worry if you can’t do that yet; there are plenty of others who will do it for you. Ha! Ha!

What sage advice have you received from an animal? Please share. It would fill my readers and me with glee. It would also remind us that sage advice does not have to come from the perfect bush–in fact, it rarely does. How sweet!

How lovely to have to drop in to visit The Sweet Life: La Dolce Vita. Please come back again. All are welcome. If you care to be notified by emails of new posts, I invite you to become a subscriber. Simply click on the button and let the good times roll. 🙂 Blessings!

God made summer so we can backpack. He doesn’t care where. Neither do I.

I’ve packed to Lassen Volcanic Park, The Lost Coast, Emigrant Wilderness, Pacific Crest Trail, Swiss Alps, Marble Mountains, Canyon Creek and to other places for which I’ve forgotten the names but not the faces.

I plan to go again this summer if I can fasten the lap belt around my still tender tummy.

Gotta keep God happy!

Below is an excerpt from the book I am writing.  The selection explains why I’m drawn to backpacking like an in-breath is drawn to lungs.

 

Maybe it will make you want to keep God happy too!

Trinity Alps Backpack Trip…  

In what poets refer to as the dead of night, poets who obviously have never slept beside an alpine lake in the high country during a warm summer night, I got up and stepped out of the tent.  I gazed skyward, looking into the purple-black heavens in absolute awe, breathing out slowly, imperceptibly.

Stars hung low, big, bright, too bright to even twinkle, more like a glow.  Silent stars tinkling their songs over the millenniums like sirens, luring, rendering one powerless yet powerful at the same time.  I called softly to awaken my husband, luring him out to see the starlit sky.

He stepped into the night and scanned the sky with the practiced eye of a pilot and the heart of a mystic.  “Look,” he whispered, then nodded.  “The Big Dipper.”

There it was.  Not only huge in the sky but closer than I have ever seen it, dipping perfectly into the outline of the black-inked mountaintops, cradled like a babe held tenderly in arms, resting before resuming its eternal journey in the sky.  It was in that moment that I saw what I had never seen before. 

The smooth black water of the lake transformed into sky.  The Big Dipper, along with hundreds of other stars, glowed golden white in the watery sky.  A perfect mirror image of the lights rose from the bottom of the liquid blackness, mysteriously dancing.  I stood frozen in time, gazing into the bigness of nature that man has gazed into since the beginning of man, the Bigness that fills man with a sense of being a part of something greater than himself. There I stood, with ancient man, with every man, filling myself, feeling myself.  More than myself.  Alive.

Last year I did not know if I would live to backpack again. I didn’t really mind the loss. I had spent enough time in those mountains to have made them my own. I realized that when we lose something we love, even though we may be heartbroken, we can find solace if we have loved enough. It’s when we haven’t loved enough that we can’t let go.

What do you do in your life that makes you feel alive?

How can you make God happy?

Maybe they are both the same question–and answer!

 

Thank you for dropping in. I love sharing The Sweet Life with you. It makes me feel alive! If you would like to be notified of future posts, I invite you to subscribe in the box at the upper right hand corner of this post. Please feel free to ‘share’ with your friends and loved ones. We could all use a little more La Dolce Vita in our lives!

 

The Chinese calendar declares 2012 to be the Year of the Dragon. I declare it the Year of the Draggin’. Rats! That was yesterday when my Wednesday trekking buddies decided to hike a trail to Crags Lake, nestled at the base of Chaos Crags in Mt. Lassen National Park.

The hardier bodies forged ahead and waited “up” the trail. Some of us, who shall remain unnamed because by-golly-Wally at least we were out there, began to fall behind. Before last year I was one of those abler bodies. Now I’m not. What a drag! Or so I thought until I discovered the slower pace held treats of its own. Like sweet glimpses of life on the trail.

 

and a view any cafe would hunger after…

 

and best of all, friends, old and new. Friends not afraid to tackle volcanic land containing fiery breath as fierce as any dragon.

 

 

Nature lifted my spirit higher than my legs yesterday, and I completed the hike. I may have been draggin’ on the outside, but I was dragon on the inside. My friend Ardith completed it, too.  She and I were both born in the Chinese Year of the Dragon 60 years ago. ROAR!

How about you? Which of your friends walk the trail with you,uncertain of the ultimate destination, slowing to your pace when the going gets tough, pointing out the sweetness that can still be found along the way no matter how hard the struggles?

 

 

 

If you have found such a friend, you are blessed. If you are such a friend, you are doubly blessed.

What adventures have you shared together?  What adventures are yet to come?

What adventures will remind you that you may be draggin’ on the outside, but dragon on the inside?

 

Thank you for joining me on adventure!  If you like The Sweet Life: La Dolce Vita, I invite you to “Like” it and become a subscriber by clicking on the box at the upper right hand corner of this post. You will receive emails informing you of new posts.  It’s free!  Also feel free to click on any other icon or box you are curious about. You can’t hurt anything, and I won’t tell! 

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